


Breath Play

by Aichi



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Breathplay, Established Relationship, Gore, M/M, Snuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7819114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aichi/pseuds/Aichi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ren and Aichi come up with some... creative uses for psyqualia. (Everything in the tags is safe and consensual, I promise.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breath Play

**Author's Note:**

> OBLIGATORY "PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS" WARNING. (And as always, please tell me if I missed any, I have no fucking idea how to tag this tbh.)
> 
> This is so fucking shameless, there's no plot here, just awful fucking kink.
> 
> When is this even set, like, timeline-wise. I don't know. It doesn't matter.
> 
> I'm so sorry.

When Ren first eagerly announces his intention to participate in the upcoming Card Capital shop tournament, Aichi doesn't think too much of it.

It's not uncommon for his boyfriend to tag along whenever he goes out, particularly to the card shop, and he appreciates the company, not to mention the opportunity for them to cardfight. A competitive setting always makes things more fun, more tense, gets the two of them more fired up and serious than a casual, friendly match can. Ren seems exceptionally excited about this particular tournament, which is understandable, Aichi thinks, because it's the first they've been to in a while.

It's only when they get paired against one another in the second round that Aichi realises something is _up_.

The moment the matchups are announced, Ren's demeanour flips like a switch. In the previous fight he'd been typically over-enthusiastic, wide-eyed, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, but now, the look he gives Aichi across the table is one that can only be described as _hungry_.

For a tiny, fleeting moment, Aichi thinks he might have seen a shimmer in those eyes.

“This is going to be _fun,_ ” Ren says, voice low and dripping with something suggestive, and there's a definite emphasis on the word _fun_ that makes Aichi suddenly nervous. “I hope you're _ready_ for me, Aichi~”

Eyes narrowed and lips curled into a sly grin, Ren regards him the way a predator would its prey. It's a look Aichi is more than familiar with, has seen plenty of times when they've been alone together, when Ren's had him held down or tied up or pressed helplessly against a wall. If they weren't in public right now, Aichi might have suspected that Ren was _planning_ something, from the way he's acting – the smile, the enthusiasm, the brief glimmer in his eyes that almost seemed like –

 _O_ _h_.

He _is._

Over the last few weeks, the two of them have spoken several times about the idea of using psyqualia during their cardfights – in a carefully controlled way, of course – as a tool to explore sensations that would otherwise be... dangerous. It had been Aichi who very cautiously put forward the suggestion at first, afraid that Ren would misunderstand his intentions, or be too repulsed by the thought of everything that had happened the last time they'd let that power run wild. In retrospect, he really shouldn't have expected anything besides unbridled excitement, and for Ren to start immediately coming up with further ideas for all the things they could _do_.

The look Aichi had gotten when he'd first suggested _that_ is the same look he's getting now, and it's more than a little distracting. With every move, he half-expects to see Ren's eyes light up again, to suddenly feel that power tearing through him, and his chest tightens in anticipation each time an attack is called.

Warmth starts to creep into his skin as his mind goes over all the ideas they shared with each other, and all the potential scenarios they could use that power to act out. Some of them had been… graphic, to say the least, and they're _in public_ right now, even if their thoughts and anything taking place in them are _technically_ private. People are still going to notice his _reactions_. It's impossible to hide the way his body tenses with every attack, the way his breath catches in his throat as he declares “no guard”, the shiver that runs through him as he performs yet another damage check. He hopes his face doesn't look as flushed as it feels.

“Something _wrong_ , Aichi?” Ren asks, innocently. _Too_ innocently. “You seem a bit… _distracted_.”

“You're–” Aichi breathes, biting back the accusation on the tip of his tongue, because Ren hasn't even really _done_ anything. “N-no, nothing's wrong. I'm fine.”

He can't exactly call Ren out for teasing him, because there's nothing to call out. _Aichi_ is the one working himself up, steeling himself for the possibility of pain with every attack, letting the anticipation build up as he recalls all the things they talked about _doing_ to each other. He's sure Ren _knows_ that, though, is probably _letting_ him get himself flustered like this, enjoying the fact that all it took was a few words and the right kind of smile. Ren could do _nothing_ , just finish the fight and saunter off, and Aichi would probably still be ready to collapse afterwards.

By the time he goes to check his fifth damage, his hands are shaking so much he can barely pick up the card.

“Mm, are you _sure_ you're fine?” Ren says, voice tinged with obvious amusement.

“I'm alright.” Aichi insists. If Ren wants him to break, he decides, it's going to take more than just subtle teasing.

“ _Well_ ~” Ren adds, and it's almost as though he's read Aichi's mind, “I still have one attack left, you know.”

Their eyes meet, and Ren's twinkle with brilliant multicoloured light. Aichi lets out a tiny, surprised gasp as Ren's thoughts reach out and touch his, filling his head with a warm tingling and a soft, quiet hum that blankets the noise of the shop around him. The colours in those eyes are transfixing, stars swirling hypnotically within them and drawing him into their glow. He barely registers the motion of Ren turning his vanguard sideways as he declares an attack.

So he _was_ planning this, then.

Aichi blinks, tearing his eyes away from Ren's for a moment, and glances around at the small group of people watching their match, then down at the even smaller number of cards in his hand. No options. He can't guard the attack, and, if he's being honest, he's not sure he wants to anyway. He'd been nervous, before, about people _noticing_ something, that somehow they would just _know_ what was happening even if they couldn't see it, but now – _now_ , he –

He doesn't want to pass this opportunity up. Lifting his gaze, he lets Ren's eyes pull him in completely.

The transition is so subtle, he doesn't even notice it until he looks down again, suddenly aware of the weight of a sword in his hand and the smooth, dark cobbles of a castle courtyard under his feet. Ren stands a few metres away, sparkling eyes still fixed on Aichi, his own sword slung casually over his shoulder. Above, the castle's spires twist up into a cloudless, moonlit sky that bathes everything in a pale silvery glow. It's surprisingly peaceful, and Aichi takes a moment to get used to it all, hefting his blade in both hands to familiarise himself with its shape and balance.

“I was going to do this sooner, honestly,” Ren says, “but I thought this kind of setting might make it more… exciting. Don't you think?”

“R-right.” Aichi nods, slowly. He can't help but feel somewhat _outplayed_ , and not just in the Vanguard sense. He really should have seen this whole thing coming sooner.

“You can give in now, and I'll be merciful,” Ren adds, voice suddenly dropping again, in a way that makes Aichi's stomach flip in both nervousness and excitement. “Or, you can struggle, if you want.”

 _This is it_ , Aichi thinks. Ren is giving him this chance to back out, to say no, to make sure he really does want this. For a moment, he stays silent, gathering courage, fingers curling tight around the hilt of his sword. Ren eyes him patiently, expectantly.

“I… thought you'd prefer to see me struggle.” Aichi's voice wavers more than he'd hoped, but the message is clear. In the privacy of his own mind, he's been on both ends of this scenario more than a few times, and he understands how good that _power_ feels. He knows exactly what Ren wants out of him, and he intends to provide it. And the struggle itself is enjoyable too, in its own way, as embarrassing as it is to admit. There's a strange thrill to the feeling of being brought low before that kind of indomitable strength.

“Mmm, I would.” Ren steps forward, and Aichi readies his blade. “Ready, then?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good boy.”

Their swords meet.

It takes every bit of Aichi's strength just to deflect Ren's opening blow, and it's only the first of many. His attacks are relentless, and there's a fluidity to his movements that makes them difficult to anticipate. Metallic ringing sounds echo around the courtyard as they trade blows, until a single well-placed strike sends Aichi's blade spinning out of his hand.

Before he can even think about retrieving it, Ren follows through with a second attack, driving his own sword straight through Aichi's chest.

Ribs splinter and give way as the blade forces itself through him, flesh and skin and fabric all parting easily under the razor-sharp edge as the tip emerges out of his back. At first, it barely even hurts, the _shock_ overwhelming him more than anything, and it's only when Ren twists the sword, viciously and deliberately, that he lets out a gasp of pain. Something hot and wet begins to well up inside him, soaking through his chest and lungs and bubbling up into his throat, and breathing suddenly feels incredibly difficult. He tries to cough, but it comes out as little more than a weak gurgle, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

Ren's grin is _predatory_ , and that look alone is enough to fill Aichi's stomach with excitement and anticipation and fear and a thousand other emotions all mixing together into a desperate heat. Through the pain, he forces a smile back, keeping his gaze locked with Ren's as he lifts a shaking hand and wraps it around the blade. Blood drips between his fingers as they slowly tighten, and he can't help but feel satisfied at the way Ren's eyes light up with curiosity when he _pulls_. Taking a staggering step forward, he drives the sword further through himself, shuddering at the fresh stab of pain it causes.

Ren catches him by the shoulder as he stumbles. “Someone's eager~”

Aichi manages a choked moan in response, struggling to form words around the intrusion in his chest and the blood still bubbling in his throat. He's not even sure what he wants to say anyway. _I want you to_ _break me_ _a_ _nd_ _tear me apart_ is a difficult concept to word without sounding ridiculous. But then, it's not like Ren doesn't already _know_ that.

“Don't worry,” Ren giggles, “I think it's cute.”

He draws the blade back, unsheathing it from Aichi's body and earning another quiet moan. It tugs almost longingly at his insides as it leaves, as if it wanted to stay buried within him, like it _belonged_ there - and now, with it gone, his chest seems suddenly, achingly empty. Blood immediately starts to leak from the wound, and Ren presses his palm over it, pausing for a moment to admire the way it wells up around his fingers, before giving Aichi a teasing wink and shoving him backwards.

Legs unable to support him any longer, Aichi crumples to his knees with a defeated whimper. He doesn't get a moment to recover, or even really process what just happened, before Ren's boot is planted firmly against his shoulder, forcing him onto his back, and he's pinned by a swordpoint pressing ever-so-gently against his throat.

Their eyes meet once more, and Ren's glow bright with power and barely-contained excitement.

“So, Aichi,” he says, and his voice is low and dangerous, “what should I do with you?”

Aichi coughs, body jerking with the effort, and blood dribbles from his lips.

“No answer? I _could_ just finish you off, I suppose. Or–”

He trails off, sword clattering against the cobbles as he discards it, and a moment later he's straddling Aichi's hips, a hand on either shoulder holding him down. Aichi squirms a little at the sudden weight on his abdomen, but doesn't have any real strength – or desire – to fight back any more. His body feels so _heavy_. Blood is already starting to pool under him, wet and sticky against his back, and his extremities are beginning to prickle at the loss. It feels too exhausting to do anything more than just lie there and let Ren play with him.

Fingers trail up his chest, slow and teasing, until they find the bloody tear in his shirt. With a tug, the fabric gives way easily, exposing the wound beneath, and Aichi hisses quietly as the cool air hits his sensitive skin. He wishes he could _see_ it, but lifting his head to look down at himself would take more energy than he has right now, so he settles for watching Ren's reaction – the way his pupils dilate and his breath stills as he reaches out to trace a finger around the edge of the ragged hole. The touch makes Aichi shudder, in a way that isn't caused purely by pain, and he lets out a gentle whimper as Ren's finger slips just barely inside him.

Ren grins eagerly, but pauses, and waits until Aichi gives a slow nod of confirmation before continuing.

The finger pushes inside again, deeper this time, and Aichi moans softly at the pain and heat it sends shooting through him. Another finger joins it, and another, probing further inside him and lighting a fire in his chest that burns with every tiny movement. It feels _intrusive_ , and it _hurts_ , but he welcomes it somehow, the way the sensations spread through parts of him that should have been impossible to reach, the way it makes every inch of his body _burn_ , the way the blood wells up around Ren's hand as the flesh squishes wetly under his touch.

“You're so _soft_ ~” Ren sighs. It's half flattering and half embarrassing, and Aichi is sure he'd be blushing if he had enough blood left in him.

Ren's gaze is filled with wonder and an almost childlike curiosity as he steadily works his fingers in deeper, poking his way past broken ribs and easing the torn flesh open to make room for himself. Aichi coughs, choking up blood again as the foreign, wriggling movements disrupt his already shallow breathing, and Ren pauses again, offering a sympathetic smile.

Then, without warning, he curls his thumb against his palm and _pushes_ , sliding his entire hand into the hole.

Aichi's whole body _jerks_. He forces out a low, pained gasp, panting heavily as his chest strains against the intrusion. It feels so _full_ , suddenly, as if he swallowed something too big for his throat and now it won't come loose no matter how much he gags and chokes around it – and _tight_ , impossibly tight, like it would only take one wrong move, one more ounce of pressure, to tear him open completely and spill his insides onto the ground. Every part of him is protesting, screaming that _that shouldn't be in there_ , and he wants nothing more than to reach up and pull Ren's hand away, his fingers _itching_ with the desire – but he resists, clenching his own hands into fists until his knuckles go white and his nails bite into his palms. A few stray tears slide down the sides of his face.

Ren smirks, and wiggles his fingers experimentally. Aichi _sobs_.

The pain itself barely even registers anymore, but the strange, squirming sensation as Ren moves inside him is still more than enough to make him shudder and let out a desperate, airless gasp. Breathing is suddenly more difficult than ever, and he swears he can feel his lungs pushing against Ren's hand as they try to expand. Things are moving inside him in places where they  _definitely_ shouldn't be able to reach, his torn muscles twitching at the impossible touch and sending more tiny shocks rippling through him. It's dizzying, both the lack of air and the feeling of Ren within him, and it leaves him incredibly aware of how _weak_ he is. He can hardly imagine how he must look right now – splayed out on the ground in a pool of his own blood, panting and drooling and crying, his eyes wide with desperation. But against all logic, the image somehow feels _liberating_. It's like a weight is being lifted from him, like all his stress and tension and trivial concerns are draining away along with his blood.

Heat is beginning to creep up from his chest into his throat and cheeks, and he can hear what must be his own heartbeat pounding heavily in his ears. The pulse is swift and feverish, and only gets more so as Ren's fingers twitch again and his hand moves, leisurely exploring and poking its way around the inside of Aichi's chest cavity.

He can't help but moan, _loud_ , when those fingers find his heart.

The touch is incredibly soft, almost ticklish, but still triggers a spasm in his chest, driving fresh, hot blood up into his throat and making him gag and cough, the coppery taste filling his mouth again. Chest seizing around the intrusion, he lets out a bitter, choking sob as his back arches upwards in an instinctive attempt to force it out of him, but all his struggle earns him is another teasing, loving stroke to the frantically beating muscle. Ren might as well be holding his entire body in that hand - the touch is completely engulfing despite its tenderness, like it's somehow coiling around him and encompassing his entire form and threatening to crush him into nothing even as it cradles him so, so gently.

Ren's eyebrows raise curiously at his reaction, and Aichi is instantly, ridiculously embarrassed by the shamelessness of it. He fights the urge to turn away and cover his face. It's too late, he reminds himself, to be ashamed of anything, especially something as trivial as making a noise like that – Ren's fingers are brushing up against quite literally the most vulnerable, private part of him, after all. He has nothing left to hide, and he doesn't really want to anyway.

Silence hangs in the air between them for a moment, then, slowly, shakily, Aichi lifts his own hand and wraps his fingers around Ren's wrist. Nails digging desperately into skin, he tugs, pleadingly, trying to draw Ren deeper into him with what little strength he can manage.

Ren's smile grows even more deadly and his hand, in turn, curls slowly around Aichi's heart, _enveloping_ him.

Aichi moans again, and this time he's too far gone to even think about trying to hide it. Just trying to wrap his mind around the _sensation_ of everything is hard enough. It's overwhelming – the way Ren's gentle, yet powerful grasp completely surrounds him, each rapid heartbeat pushing him tight against those constricting fingers. The touch reaches every part of him somehow, as if his heart is taking the feeling and pumping it through him along with his blood, as if Ren is a giant and he's a tiny, vulnerable insect being cupped fondly in a single palm. His existence could be snuffed out easily on the smallest whim, or even by accident, with just one simple, effortless movement.

It's the most helpless Aichi has ever felt, and yet, also, the most secure.

“It's beating so _fast_ ,” Ren breathes, voice filled with awe. “Are you scared, Aichi? This must be scary, right? Knowing how easy it would be for me to just crush the life out of you? All I'd have to do is _squeeze_.”

His fingers curl again, just a little, but it's _enough_. Aichi's heartbeat skips.

“I don't think that's _it_ , though, is it, Aichi? There's something else. You're _excited_.” Another squeeze. Another skip. “Aren't you?”

“Y-yes?” Aichi tries to say. It comes out as barely more than a whisper. Ren could finish him off right now, with no effort at all, just by tightening those fingers around him and watching as he chokes and convulses and bleeds out. The idea _is_ terrifying, and rightfully so, but it's also _thrilling_ , being confronted by that kind of power – and, in some ways, oddly relaxing. Like it's safe for him to just submit and _let go_. To let himself _feel_ and _react_ , not because he _can_ but because he _must_. To let himself be vulnerable and weak in the hands of someone he trusts – and to give something back to that person he loves, because it's no secret how much Ren enjoys seeing people _break_.

“Good,” Ren purrs, and flexes his fingers again.

Warmth ripples through Aichi's body at the touch, and he whines quietly, breathlessly. Even those tiny movements are starting to feel crushing now, the pressure inside him and the gravity of having his life literally held in Ren's hand leaving him hyper-sensitive to every little twitch and squish and wriggle. Every breath strains to lift an impossible weight from his chest, and his whole body buzzes with heat and anticipation and too many emotions to name.

In the back of his mind, it occurs to him that he should be dead already, really. _Would_ be, if this was all anything more than an image shared by the two of them. But his will to endure keep him anchored in his body, keeps him _feeling_ everything that Ren does to him, for as long as he can hold onto the image.

He wonders how long that will be. Wonders with each heartbeat if it will be his last.

But Ren just _holds_ him, cupping the tiny, frantically beating organ softly in his hand. His fingers move, occasionally – stroking, teasing, exploring, but not tightening, not in the way Aichi was afraid of, the way he was _yearning_ for far more than he'd like to admit.

The wait combined with the still-mounting pressure in his chest is almost too much to bear. It's constricting, suffocating, and he can definitely feel panic rising within him now, threatening to drag him down and drown him beneath its weight. His nails dig into Ren's wrist with a shudder, every ounce of willpower he has fighting the instinct to yank that hand away.

“Aren't you – aren't you going to–” Aichi trails off breathlessly. It's getting harder to cling to himself, to this image, and he's not sure how much longer he can hold on.

“Going to _what_?” The amused sparkle in Ren's eyes says he already knows the answer.

Aichi whimpers, forcing the words out of his bloody throat. “ _Crush me_.”

“Well, since you ask so nicely...”

Without warning, Ren leans over and kisses him.

He lets out a tiny gasp, shocked at the unexpected contact, and Ren's tongue takes the opportunity to messily force its way into his mouth. It draws out another muffled moan as it moves, slowly but eagerly exploring him with a forceful determination that he can't find the strength to resist, its warmth and wetness _filling_ him the same way Ren's hand still fills his chest. Without even thinking about it, he yields, lets himself melt under the pressure, and more quiet, involuntary noises escape as Ren's heat pushes insistently against him, stirring up the metallic taste of his own blood in his mouth. Even after everything else, it's still enough to make him shudder, and he feels what must be a smirk against his lips in response. A hand fists in his hair, holding his head still as that tongue continues _tasting_ him, drawing back to lick the blood from his lips before pushing in again.

The second kiss lasts longer, long enough for him to start getting lightheaded, between the unnatural pressure against his lungs and being forced to breathe through his nose – and he realises, stomach knotting in fear, that that's exactly what Ren is going for. He's going to hold Aichi down like this until his heart finally stops beating, and the hand inside him is going to feel every desperate little twitch and struggle as he falls apart.

Part of him _welcomes_ it, the feeling of defeat, of crumbling helplessly before this kind of overwhelming power – and what inevitably comes _after_ , even if he's still not ready to fully admit to _th_ _at_ idea just yet. He's safe and secure in Ren's hands, even now, even like this, and the _relief_ he'd feel if he could just _let go_ , let Ren hold him as he drifts off and gives up on his body and thoughts and _everything_ –

But at the same time, that deep, instinctual fear stirs in him again, and no amount of willingness to submit is enough to stop him writhing against Ren's grip.

He _needs_ to breathe, no matter how much he doesn't _want_ to.

It spreads through every inch of him, filling his body and rekindling the fire in his heart. He _needs_ air, needs the weight off his chest, needs his body to himself again, needs to fight back _now_ because _he's going to die_. Reminding himself that _this is what you wanted_ doesn't work, doesn't stop the overwhelming _need_ burning inside him or the reflexive jerking of his limbs, his legs kicking uselessly and hands clinging in feeble desperation to the body pushing down against him. Hot, panicked tears spill from his eyes as he tries to twist away from the invading hands and tongue, to break that suffocating, all-consuming kiss.

It's pointless, of course, but he has to _try_.

Ren holds him down with seemingly no effort at all, the hand in his hair gripping painfully tight as he tries in vain to yank away from it. The fingers inside his chest curl slightly, but refuse to withdraw, Ren's tongue pressing against his own and stifling his instinctive groans of protest as he squirms again. One hand grasps at Ren's shirt, tugging urgently, with all the strength he can manage – but he's so weak, too weak, and can feel himself getting more so with every movement, the fire inside him starting to flicker and fade as his heart beats slower and slower and slower.

Everything is beginning to feel fuzzy – black spots dancing in front of his eyes as his vision starts to blur, his fingers clinging to Ren's wrist more out of reflex than anything else as numbness creeps up his arms. The dull burning in his chest is equal parts fear and pain and pleasure now, and it's not just his own heat, but Ren's too, consuming him, forcing him to submit even as he continues to writhe against it, pushing in vain against the impossible pressure. Every movement just seems to tear him further apart, expending all his air on useless, muffled cries, struggles ripping the hole in his chest open more and more, fresh blood seeping out from – he doesn't know where, he didn't even know there was any left in him, thought it had all drained out onto the cobbles long ago. It's becoming increasingly difficult to focus on details like that, though, like his thoughts are bleeding out of him along with his life itself.

It feels _good_ , satisfying somehow, to give up and lose control and just let himself _feel_ in his final moments. He was supposed to be denying that, part of him thinks, but it doesn't matter now – nothing matters anymore, except the heat burning in his chest and the massive weight bearing down on him and the desperate _need_ filling his entire body.

Ren presses down harder, his relentless, overpowering grip forcing Aichi flat against the equally unyielding ground. Beyond his control, his body bucks upwards in one last, futile attempt at resistance, and this time, Ren moans eagerly into his mouth, hips grinding down against his own. The only noise he can manage in response is a weak, airless gasp, and it takes all his remaining energy to force even that out of his empty, still-bloody throat.

It feels like he should be doing something more, but he isn't sure what, and thinking is starting to seem like more effort than it's worth. Heart fluttering, he tries to move again, to twist his head away, or pull the hand out of him, or something, but everything is so heavy, so tiring, and the weight on him is too much to bear anymore – it's so much easier to just lie there and let himself drift, eyes rolling back as the beat running through his body grows shallower, and gentler, and–

Ren breaks the kiss and pulls back.

Aichi doesn't understand, for a moment, why his mouth is suddenly empty – then the cool, fresh air hits him, and his body jerks as it takes a massive, instinctive gasp, spine arching and chest heaving with the effort. His heartbeat skips, stutters, and then speeds up again as it tries to process the sudden influx of oxygen. He breaks into a fit of coughing, muscles spasming painfully around the hand still inside him, his entire body shaking as it tries to adjust to the sudden idea that it can _breathe_ again. Dimly, he's aware of Ren still leaning over him, mouth curled into a dangerous smile, watching with something approaching rapt fascination. His lips are moving, Aichi realises, and it takes a second for him to focus enough to grasp at what he's hearing.

“-It's _adorable_ seeing you struggle like this.” Ren's voice seems strangely distant, and his words don't quite make sense, like Aichi can't string them together properly in his head. “Almost a shame to end it, really. But I want to see _that_ too, sooo~”

Almost immediately, Aichi's still-gasping mouth is smothered by another kiss, cutting him off before he can even begin to regulate his breathing or calm his now frantically-pounding heartbeat. He writhes again, struggling to regain that brief, fleeting chance at _life_ that Ren had given him, letting out a quiet whine of protest as he clutches with renewed vigor at the body above him. The lips pressed against his curve into a satisfied smirk in response.

Then Ren clenches his fingers and tightens his fist around Aichi's heart.

It buckles instantly, the soft muscle caving in on itself with one last, stuttering beat.

Aichi _screams_.

Heat and pain roll across him like a wave, racing down to his fingertips and drawing back to fill his chest as the pressure tightens – a powerful, constricting force flowing unstoppably through him, engulfing all of him at once, infinitely more suffocating than anything leading up to it. Another muffled, rasping scream rips itself from his throat as his body explodes into horrified, violent convulsions, shaking uncontrollably as he frantically claws at the wrist buried within him.

What little breath he has left is crushed practically instantly as Ren's hold tightens again, forced out in one final desperate, shuddering noise that, of course, earns him no reprieve, only a quiet hum of appreciation from the mouth pressed over his. The sound seems to vibrate though both of them, mingling with the helpless trembling of Aichi's limbs and the last weak pulsations of his heart as he begins to _dissolve_.

He's choking and drowning and sinking beneath Ren's weight, and then, suddenly – _floating_.

It's a difficult sensation to describe, he finds, or even to understand. All at once, the pain seems to simply wash away from him, the overwhelming tide of fear receding and leaving him numb and weightless and _empty_. Everything feels _different_ – hazy, distant, like he's drifting on air, even though he's pretty sure the ground is still at his back. Darkness is seeping in at the edges of his vision – which is something that should worry him, probably, he thinks, and there was something else he was worried about too. What was it? Something important. Something about Ren?

The thought slips away as he tries to grasp at it.

 _Ren_ , he reminds himself. That's right. Ren was – doing something. Touching him. But that touch seems lighter now – is he pulling back? No, his tongue is still in Aichi's mouth and that hand is still inside him, clenched impossibly tight around his unmoving heart, and – _oh_.

 _I'm dying_ , he realises, and the idea feels warm, somehow. Comfortable.

Ren is here, after all. He's _safe_ with Ren.

His body is still moving on its own, jerking and flailing about, but it all seems – slower, now, and quieter. Its struggles grow more subdued with every moment, and the familiar, constant beat that was running through it is gone. _That_ was probably important, too, at some point, but not now, not when he feels this serene and relaxed and _light_. It feels like he could easily float away from everything, like his body is a useless weight holding him down, one that he's more than happy to just let go of – so he does.

It jerks one last time and then falls away from him altogether.

 

“That's six damage.”

Aichi staggers, barely catching himself on the edge of the table. The noise and bustle of everything around him floods back into his head all at once, a sudden barrage of sensation that's almost painful as he tries to sort through it all. At first, everything is an incomprehensible jumble of light and sound, but slowly, he starts to pick out the individual voices of people speaking, the familiar shapes of the cards in his hand, the figure smirking at him from across the table, eyes still faintly glowing. His breath comes in long, shuddering gasps as he slowly rights himself, and it takes a moment to fully process where he is.

 _Card Capital_. That's right, they were in the middle of a fight.

The card he's holding is a stand trigger, which is of course useless to him now, and he sets it somewhat shakily in the damage zone before lifting his hand to his chest. Gingerly, he touches it, with just the tips of his fingers at first, and a warm rush of relief runs through him when he finds himself _whole_ again. Pressing his palm flat over his heart, he lets out a small sigh. There's no blood, no tear in his shirt, and a gentle pulse beats rhythmically beneath his fingers, perhaps slightly faster than it should, but it's _there_ , and he's _alive_ , and he can _breathe_ , and–

“Hey, Aichi, you okay?”

He can't stop himself from jumping a little at the sound of Naoki's voice, still struggling to adjust to the sudden, jarring existence of so many people around him. Naoki frowns at the reaction, and, looking around slowly, Aichi realises that several other spectators are also giving him strange stares. Ren, meanwhile, is still wearing the same smug grin as he gathers up his cards, and Aichi's face starts to heat up all over again as it dawns on him what they've just _done_. In front of _all these people_.

“You don't look so great,” Naoki continues. “You getting sick or something?”

“S-sorry,” Aichi stammers, despite a concentrated effort to keep his voice even. _Naoki doesn't know_ , he tells himself, _he_ can't _know_. “I'm – I'm fine, yeah.”

“You sure? Hey, if you're not feeling so hot, maybe you should go home.”

“I'll be alright. I just… need to sit down for a minute, I think.”

As if on cue, Ren circles the table and loops an arm around Aichi's shoulders. “I'll take care of him,” he says, with an exaggerated wink towards Naoki. “Don't you worry.”

Thoughts still too scattered to argue, Aichi lets Ren pull him away and steer him over to an unused table and chairs near the back of the store.

The moment he sits down, whatever tension was holding him together just _dissolves_. Exhaustion seeps through his body, trickling down into his limbs and making them suddenly too heavy to lift. His head swims and his breath comes slow and shallow as he slumps forward in the chair, Ren's hold on him the only thing keeping him upright. Everything feels so _surreal_ , like a dream, like his body shouldn't still be able to move like this. It should be lying broken and motionless and empty and it feels _wrong_ , somehow, to still be clinging to it, because he thought he'd already let it go. The image is still so overwhelmingly _vivid_ in his mind, even as he tries to remind himself that _this_ , right now, is reality, that he's alive and unhurt and everything that happened was just a product of his and Ren's imaginations.

“How does it feel?” Ren asks. It takes Aichi a few seconds longer than it should to understand the question.

“It's, ah–”

Despite everything – the fatigue, the shame, the lingering sense that he _shouldn't be alive_ – it feels _good_. The burning sensation still feeding through him is deeply, inexplicably satisfying, and the weariness he feels is the kind that just makes him want to curl up in Ren's lap and take a nap more than anything else.

“–It's nice,” he manages, eventually. “Thank you.”

One of Ren's hands comes to rest over Aichi's heart, a gentle pressure reminding him that he's still in one piece. A quiet mumble of contentment escapes him, and for a moment, he almost forgets where he is again, forgets that he still has more than a few _questions_ for Ren. Because, as enjoyable as all this is, Ren's idea of what constitutes public indecency is… debatable, at best.

“You reacted so _well_ , too,” Ren says, and giggles a little too loudly. “I'm impressed, honestly.”

“Ren–” Aichi lets out a soft sigh as he tries to sort out his words. “–You can't do that sort of thing in public.” _Not that I didn't enjoy it, of course,_ he adds silently, _but people are going to_ notice. Even if onlookers can't see what's going on inside their heads, they can still see the way Aichi almost collapsed a moment ago, the way he was shivering and breathing and _reacting_ – he's just glad Naoki seems to have bought the idea that he's coming down with something.

“Mmm.” Ren pouts for a second, and then smiles again, mischievously.

Aichi's stomach knots at the expression, and, like so many things he's felt today, it's fuelled by both excitement and fear.

“That means it's fine if I do it in _private_ , right?”

**Author's Note:**

> Please look foward to the sequel in which Aichi gets vored by Phantom Blaster Dragon.
> 
> That may or may not be a joke.


End file.
